


Burqa

by quercus



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-09-02
Updated: 2001-09-02
Packaged: 2017-10-05 12:10:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quercus/pseuds/quercus





	Burqa

"I'm not sure you've persuaded me that the SGC should invest time and staff in this planet," General Hammond said gently. Sam watched Daniel's face fall, and felt compelled to speak.

"Even though the culture probably wouldn't be especially receptive to us, there still might be naquadah there. Once we get away from the stargate, we might find a place where we could mine."

Hammond raised his eyebrows; he wasn't buying that.

"Let me send a second UAV through, see what readings we get. Some images, infrared and natural spectrum, could help us make a better decision." Daniel looked gratefully at Sam, and she saw General Hammond smile to himself.

"Very well, Major. Do so. Keep Colonel O'Neill posted and if he thinks there's a reason to visit, I'll consider it."

"Thank you, sir," Daniel and Sam said in unison, and they smiled at each other.

"Dismissed. Colonel O'Neill?" The colonel stayed behind, while Daniel, Teal'c, and Sam left the briefing room.

"Where you heading?" Sam asked Teal'c.

"Sergeant Davis has requested I assist him."

"Sergeant Davis?"

Daniel laughed. "Yeah, he's teaching the sergeant how to meditate. Davis thinks it'll help him at poker."

"Teal'c, you play poker?"

"I do not. However, Sergeant Davis has informed me that I possess a poker face, and believes the practice of kel-no-reem will facilitate his acquisition of one."

Sam started to laugh, but Teal'c looked so serious that she choked it off, contenting herself with a glance at Daniel's face. He was grinning up at Teal'c and shaking his head. "Knock 'em dead, T," he said in a perfect imitation of the colonel, and that made her laugh again. Even Teal'c looked amused, staring down his nose at Daniel in that slightly disapproving way he had when the silly Tau'ri were sillier than usual.

Teal'c nodded at last and headed toward his quarters. "Come on," Sam said, tugging at Daniel's arm. "Let's go review those specs again."

"Sam, we've got to persuade Jack to go there. The images from the UAV are fascinating."

"Daniel," she said patiently, as she had a hundred times before, "you know we can't use the culture as a reason to visit a planet. We need something else."

"Well, just *find* something else," he said unreasonably, even though he sounded reasonable. "You can do it."

She opened the door to her office and they stepped in. "Fix us some coffee," she said, even as he moved straight to the empty pot. "I'll start up the video clip we got. And thank god Hammond agreed to send another UAV through. If we can't find anything here, maybe we can at least figure out where to send it."

Daniel didn't answer, just nodded and set to work making coffee, while Sam shoved at the Dell's mouse and got rid of the flying pyramids screensaver that Daniel had loaded onto it a few months ago. She clicked on Media Player and watched again the brief clip before the UAV's images greyed out. The video stream had still been received; there was just nothing to see.

"What do you think happened?" Daniel asked, handing her a mug and sipping at his own.

She shook her head. "I've analyzed this," and she pointed at the grey image, "every way I can think. Nothing. It's just *weird*." She sighed, and looked at her teammate. "What do you think happened?"

He stared at the monitor for another few seconds before looking up at her. "I think something made it go out. Intentionally. Not because of gamma rays or x-rays or whatever."

She shrugged. "Anything's possible. But what would interrupt the signal like that? It's as though someone just put a cap over the camera lens."

"Is that possible?"

"Not really," she answered before realizing he was joking. "Oh," she said, and felt herself flushing. She punched his bicep lightly; his and Jack's dry sense of humor sucked her in every single time. Six years working with them, and still he'd fool her. Oh, well. That's why he did it. "Ha ha."

He smiled at her, kindly, and she thought again how much she loved him. Her favorite brother. She felt closer to Daniel than she'd ever been to Mark. She punched him again to counter the sappy look she knew was on her face, and then turned to their work. "You'll figure it out," she heard him say, but she was sitting down, calling up SPSS, feeding in more numbers in the hopes that this time, she'd figure out why the screen was grey.

"Okay," she said some time later, and Daniel woke up with a little grunt. "Sorry," she apologized, not at all sincere; why did he get to sleep? "But look. I think you're right; there's something on that planet with the technology to blank out the reception of the UAV's camera."

"How did you figure that out?" She opened her mouth but he held up his hand. "Will I understand your answer?" She shook her head. "Then don't tell me. I hate it when you start on the numbers; you know I can't follow."

"Okay. But my point is, now we know they have a sophisticated technology. And surely that's a good enough reason to visit. You think?"

"I hope so. I'm dying to meet these people."

"I hate it when you say you're 'dying' to do something, Daniel."

He ducked his head. "Sorry," he muttered, and looked at her from under his lashes. "I forget."

"Let's find the colonel, tell him."

"Will he be on base? I mean, it's," and he glanced at his watch, "uh, Sam. It's after one in the morning."

She made a face. "Colonel O'Neill is gonna get here all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed."

"And then he'll tell me: 'Daniel, we're a field unit.' Yeah, I know." They gazed sympathetically at each other. "I'm gonna find a bunk and crash till then. You do the same."

"Yeah. I will." He stood up and flicked off the coffee maker; she realized the last little bit had started to burn. "Night, Sam."

"Night, Daniel."

When he'd wandered down the corridor, she stretched and then surreptitiously unhooked her bra and pulled the straps off her shoulders and right down her arms, removing it without taking off her tee shirt. Oh, god, that felt better, she thought, and stretched again. Daniel was right. She needed some sleep if she was gonna convinced the colonel that they should visit P3X-927. She wadded up the bra and stuck it in her trousers' pocket, and then headed toward a bed.

A few hours later, she was drinking Daniel's coffee again, trying to stop yawning enough to face General Hammond and Colonel O'Neill. "You ready?" she mumbled.

"No. Yes. I mean, I know what I want to say. I just don't know if they'll listen to me. They'll listen to you, though. You're hard science. I'm soft science. I'm the girl in this scenario."

"Oh, and what does that make me?" They'd had this ridiculous discussion a dozen times; why did social scientists have such a chip on their shoulders? she wondered yet again. Of course, the natural sciences were a bit less, well, *flaky*, to use one of the colonel's words. Still. "Give it a rest, Daniel," she said at last. "We'll persuade them. One way or another."

"Yeah. I know." He smiled at her in complicity. When both of SG-1's scientists ganged up on the brass, they didn't stand a chance.

One of the brass in question stuck his head into Sam's office. "Good morning, campers," he said, obscenely chipper. Sam and Daniel glanced at each other; Daniel's eyebrows were raised and he wore a half smile.

"Come on, Jack," he said, and Sam recognized his bait-Jack voice. "What's good about any morning?"

"Another day in the Air Force, Daniel! It's living the American dream." Daniel rolled his eyes and Sam buried her smile in her coffee mug. "You two kids got anything for Hammond and me?"

They stared at each other, both smiling now, and Jack groaned. "Oh, god, you do, don't you. You were up all night and figured out something and now we gotta go to that stinkpot planet. Christ. I should've made you both go home."

"Now, Jack," Daniel said, but Jack held up his hand and made "ah-ah-ah" noises.

"Save it for when we meet with the general," he said, and Daniel sighed again. Very dramatic, Sam noticed, and had to take another big sip of coffee.

"Yes, Jack," Daniel said with exaggerated patience.

"Let's go. I'll bet Teal'c is already waiting in the briefing room."

Which he was, as they all had known he would be. He looked up solemnly from the surface of the table he'd been studying. "General Hammond will be a few minutes late," he announced. "He says you should help yourself to some coffee. Especially you, Daniel Jackson. He says these oh-eight-hundred briefings are not good for you."

"General Hammond said that?" Daniel asked, and Sam was a little taken aback.

"Not like it's news, Danny," Jack said, and refilled the mug Daniel had brought with him. "How are you this fine morning, Teal'c?"

"I am well, O'Neill. And yourself?"

"Never better. Unlike some people, I got a full eight hours last night."

"Sorry I'm late," General Hammond said, bustling in with a pleased air. "Sit down, please. A few things have come up that I'll need to deal with, so let's get started. I'd like to hear what Doctor Jackson and Major Carter have to say about P3X-927."

"Good morning, General Hammond," Daniel said, and Sam could tell he nearly vibrating with the intensity to visit this culture and the people who lived there. Hammond smiled kindly at him, and then at her. The colonel referred to them as his "kids," but she knew the general felt the same way. It was nice, except when it was annoying.

"Have you discovered anything new?" Hammond asked them, and Daniel looked at her.

"Yes, sir. I've done some analyses on the UAV tape and discovered there's a low-level frequency, something we can't hear or see, but that disrupted the magnetic signals on the video tape."

"Is that possible?" the colonel asked.

"Apparently so. See, videotape is composed primarily of three components: metal oxide particles, a polyurethane-based binder, and a polyester base material. Changes in the magnetic properties of the metal oxide particles result in loss of color, saturation, and sound clarity. Regression analyses I've performed indicate that something, some beam, I guess, or maybe a stream of frequencies was aimed at the UAV microphones that somehow interfered with the storage of the images on the tape."

"So somebody intentionally did this."

She shrugged, looking at the colonel. "I can't determine intentionality from the damage done, sir. But at least we know they have a more sophisticated technology than we do."

O'Neill raised his eyebrows and looked at the general. "Your call," he said, and the general nodded.

"Doctor Jackson, you've expressed an interest in visiting this place."

"Yes, sir," Daniel said, sitting forward. "In addition to what Sam's discovered, the little bit we saw and heard indicate to me some kind of Islamic culture. People were wearing what might be called a chadori or burqa, a kind of hooded robe that covers the entire body, including the head or face. On earth, usually only women wear the burqa, so either we saw only women or else on P3X-927 everyone wears the burqa. Since all Goa'uld we've met tend toward the, uh, *gaudy*, my assumption is this planet hasn't been visited by the Goa'uld, or at least not in a long time. We might be able to ally with them, especially if they are technologically more advanced than we are."

There was a silence, while the others considered this, and then Hammond raised his head. "Colonel O'Neill, SG-1 has a go. Oh-nine-hundred tomorrow."

"Thank you, sir," Sam and Daniel said simultaneously. She smiled at him and he nodded back.

"With me, Daniel," O'Neill said, and she watched them leave the briefing room ahead of the others. O'Neill put his hand on the back of Daniel's neck for an instant, gently shaking it; the gesture reminded her a mother cat carrying her kitten.

The next morning, she bumped into Daniel in the locker room; to her surprise, he had a large pile of black sheets, folded neatly, and was stuffing one of them in his backpack. "Here," he said, and handed her one.

"Um."

"It's a burqa."

"Daniel, I've already done the dress-up-like-the-locals thing once, and I have no intention of doing it again."

"I know, and I'm sorry, Sam, but we can't risk it. When we step through the stargate, we need to blend in, and these uniforms," he gestured at the tan tee shirts and desert BDUs they wore, "won't."

"So why aren't we putting them on now?"

He grinned mischievously at her. "Can you imagine persuading Jack to wear one in the gate room?"

"Wear what, Daniel?" O'Neill asked as he and Teal'c arrived. "And why are you early?"

"I'm not early. I'm on time," Daniel said in his pissy voice, and Sam turned away to laugh. "Wear a burqa."

"Oh. I don't think so."

"Jack."

"Daniel."

"Jack, we don't have to wear them in the gate room, but the minute we're through the stargate, we've got to put them on. Otherwise we'll stick out like sore thumbs."

"I do not have a sore thumb, Daniel Jackson."

"Yes, I know, Teal'c, but you'll look like one if you don't wear this."

Teal'c lifted one up cautiously, as if it would bite him; the material fell in long heavy folds to the ground. "Major Carter said the average temperature was over one hundred degrees Fahrenheit. Would not this burqa increase our discomfort?"

"See, Teal'c's got a point. Can't function in a dress, specially not a really hot dress. Not that kind of hot, Daniel."

But it was too late; Sam and Daniel were laughing, and Jack rolling his eyes, and Teal'c staring sternly at them all when they finally left the locker room. Jack grumbled as he tucked the burqa into his backpack, but Sam was pretty sure he'd pull it on once out of sight of the others in the gate room.

The shock of moving from the arctic cold wormhole to the subsaharan heat of P3X-927 staggered Sam, and she half fell down the steps onto the hot sand. Teal'c was beside her instantly, helping her up; she noticed sweat was already beading on his face. "Jesus Christ, it's worse than Iraq," the colonel muttered, but Daniel stepped behind him and unzipped a compartment in O'Neill's backpack to pull out a burqa. "No, Daniel."

"Yes, Jack. We all have to. There are some cultures on earth that will actually kill you for not wearing one."

"Oh, now that little factoid you managed to leave out of the briefing."

Daniel shook out the burqa and flung it up like a fishing seine; it fluttered gently over O'Neill. A muffled "Shit" emerged from beneath it, and Daniel began tugging on it. Sam stepped behind Teal'c and brought his out, then turned her back to him so he could do the same. It took nearly ten minutes, but finally they were all covered.

"Now, this is attractive," O'Neill said, surveying his team.

"No worse than bio-hazard suits, sir," Sam told him, a little tired of his petulance. He glared at her, or so she thought. One of the benefits of the burqa was it was nearly impossible to see someone's face through the little screen in front. Only the grossest body language was revealed.

"Okay, campers. Let's head out. How far to this city or whatever, Carter?"

"Less than two miles, sir. This way."

"Teal'c, take point. Carter, stay with him. Daniel, you're with me."

Sam discovered she could easily tell one teammate from another. Teal'c was, of course, the biggest, and he looked like a walking mountain in the burqa. The colonel strode aggressively along, turning his head from side to side as he tried to see through the mesh screen. Daniel was slighter and more graceful, and she remembered him in his robes on Abydos; he'd had a long time to get used to wearing them.

She didn't like to imagine what she looked like in the damn thing. At least this time, everyone was wearing a costume.

The land around the stargate was primarily flat and nearly barren of vegetation. It was hard walking; the soil was very sandy, and actual sand dunes rose to their left, like motionless golden waves. The city came into sight very quickly, and Sam saw that the dunes were breaking right against its outer walls.

"Sand moves," Daniel said, and she turned to look at him, or at least his shape. "It's like a glacier, slowly moving across the land, absorbing everything in its way. I've seen that in Egypt, when it destroys an oasis. People fight the best they can, but." She thought he shrugged. "It's inexorable. Beautiful, but inexorable. Maybe beautiful because it's inexorable."

She looked again at the desert, wondering that he saw beauty here. The colonel joked that Daniel was the alien, and sometimes she knew what he meant. He'd been raised in a different culture, far from the middle class military brat childhood she'd known. He probably found her as alien as she found him.

"O'Neill," Teal'c interrupted them, and pointed. They followed the direction he pointed in through his burqa, and Daniel slid his arm through a hole in the material, holding a monocular up to his eye.

"Oh my god," he said, and handed the glass to her. When she peered through it, she saw that three black-robed people had been hanged and left, motionless in the still heat of P3X-927. She swallowed heavily.

"Lock and load," O'Neill murmured behind her, and she saw him draw Daniel away, placing him in the center of a triangle: Teal'c, O'Neill, and Sam. "Keep your head down," he told him.

They trudged across the increasingly sandy soil, her boots sinking in deeper with each step. Sweat poured out of her, pooling in her bra and at the waist of her trousers. Her feet were burning. She decided she really didn't like this place.

The closer they came to the city, the more signs of destruction they saw. A shanty, splintered into kindling and left lying. A smear of something she was pretty sure was blood. A lot of blood, soaking into the sand. Some kind of animal, on its side and bloating in the heat, the P3X-927 version of flies swarming it. She heard someone gag behind her.

Then she saw a burqa slumped against the wall of the city, like a pile of dark laundry. For some reason, it drew her eyes and she peered through the mesh screen, trying to get it to resolve. As they came nearer, it moved; she froze, putting her hand out to stop the others. Then the bundle rose and she realized it was person on its hands and knees. She jogged over to it and knelt. "Can I help you?" she asked.

Suddenly an explosion of black sheets descended around her, like crows or vultures, jerking her back. One of them began bludgeoning the person, and she heard bone crunching. Before she could cry out, she was pulled further back; she kicked out, hard, and heard O'Neill swear. "Sir, we have to --"

"We have to get out of here," Daniel whispered to her, and fumbled through the fabric to find her hand. "Come on, Sam. Come on."

She backed up with them, stumbling, and then turned to face them. "We have to get off this planet," she said with certainty.

"No shit," the colonel said, and they began marching double-time back to the stargate.

She discovered she was crying a bit, and used the fabric over her face to wipe her tears, wondering how on earth she'd blow her nose. "These are not people with whom we should ally ourselves, Major," Teal'c said. She sniffed and nodded her head. "There was nothing you could do," he added, his voice barely reaching her.

And there wasn't, she knew. There were too many of them. And how had they just appeared like that? No sound at all. The damn burqa muffled sounds as well as half-blinded her. "I hate it here," she finally said, and wiped her face again.

Suddenly, the crows were around them again, shouting at them in some language she didn't recognize. "Daniel!" she called out, but he was backed up to Colonel O'Neill.

"I don't know what they're saying!"

No one touched her or any of the others. They just herded them, appearing around them in such numbers and with such rapidity that they seemed to be multiplying right there on the sand. As inexorably as the sand dunes, they were pushed back toward the city, past the now flattened material by the wall and finally into the city itself.

Poverty here was at a level she had never seen, not in all her travels on earth or through the galaxy. There were in some kind of street market. Goods were laid out directly on the sand, not even on a blanket, pathetic in quantity and quality. A handful of grain. One egg. A small pyramid of nuts. A wicker container of some kind of bugs, like grasshoppers. The people they passed were all dressed similarly to SG-1, in voluminous dark robes that covered their entire bodies, with a mesh grid where the eyes would be, only their robes were shabby with wear, and filthy. The smell of the market brought tears to Sam's eyes.

No matter where she turned, there were more of the crows pecking at them -- people in the same dirty black burqas. She realized that these people had a small emblem sewn to the shoulder of their robes, near where her own jacket had the SGC emblem stitched. She tried to study it, but couldn't focus on it through the mesh grid of the burqa and the wild movements around her. She caught glimpses of her teammates as she was tumbled up the street, away from the stargate, the crows milling around her, shouting and waving clubs or cords that snapped.

Suddenly she found herself in Daniel's arms. "Don't let go," he whispered hoarsely, and she clutched at him through her robe.

"What's happening?"

"I don't know. I've never seen anything like this. I don't know the language, I don't know anything." He sounded bereft, and she was sorry she'd asked. His body was comforting against hers as they shied away from the people herding them, and her heart melted when she realized he was trying to shield her from them.

"I'm all right, Daniel," she said softly, and thought she caught a glimpse of his glasses from behind the mesh grid, but he turned quickly, putting his back to someone raising a club in their direction.

Over the noise, she became aware of O'Neill's bellowing and cursing, and was comforted by that, too. As long as they didn't separate the team.

They had passed through the pitiable market into a shanty town of narrow winding passageways; she and Daniel were bounced off the trembling walls of the fragile buildings. Then O'Neill seized hold of their arms, bruising her with his grip. "Don't let them hit you with that cord thing," he said, and she was afraid to ask why.

The path between the huts opened suddenly into another square, but an empty one. The roar grew louder, and she thought they were laughing at them. Still turning in the midst of the confusion of being herded, she thought she saw Teal'c flash by. O'Neill let her go and she clutched more desperately at Daniel. It was so noisy and hot and the smell gagged her, and then they touched her with something and she screamed until something popped in her throat and she fell and fell and fell.

Someone was crying when she woke up. A slow sad wailing that rose and fell, a monotonous sobbing that hurt her chest, and she realized that she was crying. She was soaked in tears and snot and sweat, her head lying on something lumpy. She swallowed painfully and clawed at the covering on her head until someone took careful hold of her hands through the robe.

"Do not remove the burqa, Major Carter," Teal'c said, and she realized she was lying on his lap.

"I can't breathe," she gasped out.

Daniel lay down next to her, putting an arm over her chest. "Yes, you can. You have to, Sam. Take shallow breaths. As if you had a broken rib."

She stopped fighting them, and tried to obey. Shallow breaths. Through her mouth, because that way it didn't smell so awful. But her throat was so parched. "Thirsty," she said, and Daniel relaxed.

"Yeah. Shallow breaths, and I'll get you some water. Uh, I'll have to put my hands under your burqa."

"Daniel, at this point, you can feel me up all you want, as long as I get some water." His silence told her how embarrassed he was. "I'm sorry," she whispered, feeling ashamed.

"It's okay."

"No. It's not. I'm sorry, Daniel." He lifted his head and stared into her eyes. For a moment she could see him, see her friend, see the sweat-stained dirty face behind the grid, his lashes coated with the white pumice-like soil, and then he bent to his task again.

Finally, she was able to reach down and take the canteen from his hands; he and Teal'c lifted her so she could drink, spilling water in her haste. "Oh, god, thank you," she panted.

"Do not drink too rapidly," Teal'c warned her, and she capped the canteen and passed it down the front of her body to Daniel's hands. When he took it, she captured one and held it for a moment.

"Thank you," she said again, and squeezed. He squeezed back, and then straightened her burqa.

Teal'c helped her sit all the way up, and she finally looked around. They were in the shade at least, but it still had to be well over a hundred degrees. Teal'c sat to her right, one arm around her shoulders, and Daniel to her left, pressing his shoulder against hers. "Where's the colonel?" she whispered.

"Here, Major." She turned her head. He was lying behind them. The fact that he was lying down told her more than she wanted to know.

"What happened?"

"They have this -- weapon," Daniel said, sounding angrier than she'd ever heard him. "A whip or something."

"It appears to be a neural stimulator of some kind," Teal'c explained.

"Oh my god," she said. "Colonel."

"Yeah. Hurts like a son of a bitch."

"Jack. You need water, too."

"I'm sure I do, Daniel. Just not right now. Don't touch me right now."

From the tone of their voices, she knew they'd had this discussion many times before. "Why not?" she asked, her curiosity kicking in despite her fears and concerns.

When O'Neill didn't answer, Daniel said, "We think the whip shoots some kind of current into a person that keeps pinging around the nervous system."

"Pinging around," she echoed. Not exactly scientific terms, but she understood exactly what he meant. "Oh my god," she said again. She crawled over to O'Neill's supine body and, as she had with Daniel, stared at him through the mesh grid. After a moment, she could see his face was a bright unhealthy red, as if he were suffering from carbon monoxide poisoning. He was also silently crying. She turned at looked back at Daniel. "What's going on?"

"We don't know. I can't speak their language, Sam," and the anguish in his voice brought tears to her eyes, too. "I don't know what they want."

"So we just, just wait here?"

"General Hammond will send Feretti through in a couple days. We keep our heads down until then. Figure out what we can to do escape. You know the drill." The colonel sounded so calm, his voice so measured; if she weren't looking straight into his eyes, she wouldn't know the kind of pain he must be suffering.

She did as her CO instructed and kept her head down. Withdrew into the burqa and into herself. Daniel lay next to the colonel, not touching him, but there. Teal'c sat as straight as if in meditation and watched over them all, his jaw clenching and unclenching. She tried to remember what had happened.

It didn't make sense to her. She couldn't remember being touched at all, and yet she had obeyed and moved away from the stargate. Of course, a riot of angry people in ominous black robes milling violently around her had helped, but surely she could have pushed her way past them. Pulled her gun? Shit, where was her gun?

"Our weapons," she said aloud.

"Taken," Teal'c answered. "As were our packs."

"All we have is what was in our vests," Daniel added. God, and she had guzzled Daniel's water. A few protein bars, maybe a candy bar, gum, a first aid kit --

"I have morphine."

"We've already been through that," O'Neill said firmly.

"He won't let us give him anything. Wants to stay 'frosty,'" Daniel said wearily.

"Christ, Daniel. Give it a rest, will you?"

"Jack, I --"

"I know," he said softly, and Sam had to strain to hear. "I know you're worried about me. Hell, I'm worried about me. But I need to be awake and aware."

"But Sam's awake now. She could be in charge. Command. Whatever."

Sam thought Daniel sounded near tears, and wondered how long had she been out that the colonel and Daniel could have had this argument often enough for that.

"Daniel Jackson. O'Neill is correct. Let him do his job."

Daniel turned his head away from them, toward O'Neill, but didn't speak. There was a small movement from within the colonel's robes, then nothing.

"Why aren't we running away?" she finally asked.

"We have tried. They will not permit us to leave."

"Where are they?"

Daniel said, "It's hard to see them until they're right there. I think they have some technology that, uh, camouflages them."

Oh. Well, they'd wanted technology. But now she only wanted to go home.

No one spoke until they came again. Another crowd of them; they really are like crows, Sam thought. All black and cawing and traveling in flocks, pecking and pecking. They seemed to arise around them as if from the earth, magically, horribly. Sam watched them closely; they blurred as they moved, but she couldn't tell if it was the grid before her eyes or if they really did wear some technology that permitted them to fade into their background.

Groaning, Jack sat up, waving away Daniel's assistance. Teal'c stayed near her, one hand on her shoulder. "We must not be separated," he said urgently, and Sam profoundly agreed.

Again, they were hustled along, the center of a black hurricane. Teal'c kept one hand on her and she reached out to Daniel's burqa, holding it tightly. The colonel walked alone, stiff with anger and pain.

They were pushed out of the open square and back into more narrow paths winding through the pathetic buildings that passed for houses in this awful place. Sam saw open sewers, a dead cat-like creature, and people huddling behind the buildings, hiding, she thought, from the crows.

They pounded on the ground and against the buildings with clubs, roaring with some emotion she couldn't understand. Some of them snapped black cords, and she wondered if that's what had hit her, or the colonel. Teal'c's grip was as hard as steel, but she was grateful for his strength and persistence. She clutched at Daniel's robes with both hands and was relieved when she felt an answering touch from beneath the burqa.

At last, they were tumbled into another open square, one much smaller but surrounded by something like bleachers. Ahead of them, she saw the gallows they'd seen; three people still dangled there, anonymous and genderless in their black robes. Only Teal'c's and Daniel's grip kept her upright when she realized what was going to happen.

"No, no, no," she discovered she was moaning, and shut up instantly, trying to be the good soldier, the soldier her father and General Hammond and Colonel O'Neill would respect and admire. But then she thought of Daniel dangling from that filthy rope and she cried out again. This couldn't be happening. She couldn't lose her team this way. Her friends. Not after everything they'd done, everything they'd been through.

But they weren't herded toward the gallows. Instead, they were turned toward another side of the square and there she saw a low cross-shaped structure, with ropes hanging from it. A few feet from it, they were stopped, and the backs of her knees kicked so she dropped like a stone, kneeling in the sand, staring up at the structure. Teal'c never let her go, and she still had Daniel's burqa in her hands. She could smell both men, their sweat and their fear, as they pressed up against her.

The colonel was moved to the cross and she saw for the first time how they'd been herded -- something like the Goa'uld ribbon device, she thought, exerting a much lower level of energy that acted as a movable force field, pushing against O'Neill; she could see his burqa flattening from the pressure. He staggered along, buffeted by the crows, until he stood in front of them, looking down at them.

For long minutes they were still, and she sensed a crowd growing around them, silent presences at her back. Daniel moaned. "What are they going to do to him?" he whispered, but Sam didn't want to know.

Suddenly, O'Neill's burqa was ripped in half at the back and his arms pulled back then up; like Christ on the cross, he was to be tied to the crossbeam. Daniel leapt to his feet, pulling the cloth out of Sam's hands, bellowing, "No! Leave him alone! Leave him alone!" He ran to the structure and grabbed O'Neill's hand, trying to pull it away. "Come on, Jack, please," he begged. The crows seem to waver in her vision, but remained hovering around them.

O'Neill said something and Daniel froze. Then O'Neill put his hand on the back of Daniel's neck, as he had just two days earlier, when he'd led him from the general's briefing room, and pulled him closer, until their heads touched. "No," Daniel said clearly, but Sam knew he was acquiescing to whatever O'Neill had asked.

"Teal'c," O'Neill called, and Teal'c rose, Sam scrambling to follow him. "You'll need to hold Daniel."

Teal'c bowed, nearly to his waist. "Please, Jack," Daniel whispered.

"We don't have a choice, Daniel. This will buy some time, till Feretti can get here. Do this for me."

Sam's head thundered and she thought she'd throw up, right there, but she grabbed Daniel's burqa again. "Come on, Daniel," she said softly. "The colonel's right. We need time."

"They'll kill him. Please, Sam, save him."

"I can't. I don't speak the language, I don't know what's going on, I don't have a weapon. This is a tactical decision, Daniel. Please."

"I hate the fucking military," Daniel said, and Sam could hear he was crying.

"Daniel," Jack said, and Daniel again put his face up to O'Neill's, so the material of their burqas touched. Sam was so near she could see their breath move the black fabric, and she could hear Jack as he whispered, "I'll always love you. Now, go with Carter and Teal'c."

Sam stepped to Daniel's side and slid her arm around him; Teal'c did the same. She felt light-headed with shock at O'Neill's words; the moment seemed stopped to her, as if time were suddenly immobile. The crows remained in her peripheral vision, Daniel's body was pressed against her side, Teal'c's arm lay over hers, O'Neill was nearly as close and yet lightyears away, and Jack loved Daniel. She shut her eyes. "I love you, too, Jack," she heard Daniel whisper, and tears again came to her eyes. "Please. Please."

The colonel hesitated, and she opened her eyes to see him tilt his head slightly; Daniel leaned forward and Sam watched as they briefly and lightly kissed each other through the fabric.

"Don't look, Danny," Jack said when they stepped back. "I'll be watching you. Keep your eyes closed."

Daniel dropped his head so he stared at the sand; Sam thought that was excellent advice. She didn't know if she could take it, though, any more than Daniel could.

The crows surrounded them again, just as suddenly and silently as before, and they were again kneeling before the colonel, staring up at his invisible face. Someone began to speak over a loudspeaker; it sounded like a sermon to Sam, and went on and on and on. She thought she'd scream from frustration and kept reminding herself that it gave them more time. That they weren't being hanged. That the colonel had been tortured before and lived through it. And that she needed to be strong for Daniel.

Who was trembling in her grasp, his breath shallow and hard, as if he'd run a very long way. "Please please please," she heard him mumble. "Please don't let this happen. Please." She and Teal'c simultaneously moved closer to each other, so Daniel was pressed tightly between them, held up by their bodies. Her arm lay on top of Teal'c's where it wrapped around Daniel's waist. "Let's run away," Daniel whispered. "Just run. Distract them from Jack. Let them kill us that way. Not like this." And Sam agreed with him. With all her heart, she agreed with him.

The colonel was suddenly surrounded by the crows and then equally suddenly visible again. He was firmly strapped to the structure, his forehead resting against the center post. For a moment, Sam wished she could see his face, and then realized that no, she didn't wish that at all. She wished she were home, and safe, and far away from this awful place, and profoundly regretted contributing to the decision to come here.

Then they started beating the colonel and she couldn't think of anything but the whistle of the cord through the air, the electric snap of it against his back, his breath as he gasped and then cried out, and Daniel crying at her side, and Teal'c's arm trembling where it rested on top of hers, and then she stopped thinking at all.

She woke lying in the sand again, staring up at the colonel who hung from the crossbeam as limply as wet laundry. She heard Daniel behind her, weeping, and Teal'c's rumble as he comforted him. The crow who had wielded the cord stared at O'Neill's back as Sam watched; probably admiring his work, she thought. Then he strode over to the rest of the team and she thought she'd vomit in fear.

"Fucking bastard," Daniel bellowed at him, but Sam was still too lethargic to move. They must've done something to her. She swallowed, and tried to move her arms, to rise. She was able to turn her head at last, and saw Daniel struggling in Teal'c's arms. He was cursing in some language, Arabic or Abydonian, she didn't know what. The cord lay coiled on the ground before him, a threat, she thought.

At last, the man in front of them spoke. He sounded contemptuous; Sam didn't know if tone translated or not, but in English, that tone meant contempt for the hearer. He spoke for a long time at them, and then raised his head and spoke louder, to whoever was behind them. Again, if tone meant anything, he was preaching to them -- probably telling the crowd how he'd saved them from the outlanders or something. Who knew. All she wanted was for him to choose his next victim and get on with it.

The sermon went on and on; she closed her eyes and wished she could close her ears. On and on and on. Night came; it was marginally cooler and she was a lot thirstier. She had to pee. Her back ached from her awkward position on the ground. She wanted a shower and a cold beer and someone to hold her while she cried and cried. Instead, she chose to lie there, another tactical decision, she told herself. And you, Samantha Carter, are a fucking liar and a coward and a first-class piece of shit. At least Daniel fought back. Daniel always fought back. He was the toughest son of a bitch she'd ever met, and she loved him and respected him, and if he was kissing the colonel, she would bless them and never say a single word about it to another living soul.

Finally, the sermon ended. Okay, she thought wearily. Now he'll beat one of us. Probably Daniel. And she knew that, although she had let the colonel be beaten, she wouldn't let Daniel be hurt. She would die probably, trying to stop them, but it would be an honorable death.

She forced her eyes open and managed to rise to her hands and knees. It was hard to see through the mesh grid, but when she twisted her head around, she couldn't see anyone but SG-1. The crows were gone.

"Where are they?" she said, her voice hoarse.

"They are gone, Major Carter. As we should be." She pushed herself to her feet, swaying, and lunged toward the colonel, wrestling furiously with the straps that held him upright. "Let me assist you." Together, they unlaced the straps and Teal'c caught the colonel, gently lowering him to the ground.

"Daniel," she called to the huddle behind her. "Come here." She sounded cold, she realized. A professional soldier. When he didn't move, she reached back and grabbed a handful of his burqa and tugged. "Come *here*, Daniel."

He moved, just as he always did when O'Neill spoke to him in that tone of voice. He knee-walked to O'Neill, lying across Teal'c's lap like the Pieta, and then put his arms around him. Then he sighed.

"He's alive, Sam," he said quietly.

"I know. We have to get him to the stargate."

Slowly, as slowly as if they were drugged, they struggled to their feet, Teal'c carrying the colonel as tenderly as he did Ry'ac, and they started the walk back. It was completely dark; there were no lights here. She realized they'd never learned the name of this village, or this planet. She realized she didn't want to know.

Sam remembered the direction they'd looked when they'd seen the hanged men, so she started off that way. She kept her arm around Daniel, who was hovering near Teal'c. "Let me help," he finally said. "Let me carry his feet or something."

"I need no assistance, Daniel Jackson. However, I believe it would comfort O'Neill if you were to hold his hand."

Grateful for Teal'c's sensitivity, Sam steered Daniel to the other side of Teal'c, where he could more easily take the colonel's hand. He struggled inside the burqa for a moment and then found the slit through which he poked his hand. She was shocked for a moment when she saw the glimmer of white skin. Then she was shocked at her shock; she'd been here less than a day and already she had become used to viewing others as shapeless black lumps.

They got lost a few times, wandering through the narrow maze-like passageways that interwove this awful place. She wished with all her heart the desert would rise up like an avenging monster and eat it all, wipe out these people and their technologies that she would make sure would never contaminate SGC's corridors. But she kept her eyes on the few stars she could see and kept them going in that direction, on and on, no matter how much she wanted to curl up and sleep.

At last they staggered onto the desert, and she thought she saw the gleam of the stargate, leading them home.

Home.

As she showered the filth of that planet off her, compulsively washing her hands, she thought again of her decision not to fight. Had it been a decision? Had they been drugged somehow? She didn't know. Janet had had blood samples taken from them all, to be analyzed for exactly that; Janet herself had worked on Colonel O'Neill, who was still unconscious. Daniel had tried to explain about the cord, that Jack was hurt in ways beyond the ripping apart of his back, so she had heavily sedated him despite his unconsciousness. And then she'd sedated Daniel.

Sam wanted her father. She wanted him to hold her while she cried, to tell her she'd done the right thing. She wanted forgiveness, and comfort, and -- she didn't know what she wanted. She wanted not to feel this way.

She also thought about the colonel and Daniel. Jack and Daniel. How could she not have seen it before? What was the first word out of Daniel's mouth when he was in trouble? What was the first word out of the colonel's mouth when he thought one of his team was in trouble? Which two spoke in unison, shared the same dry sense of humor, knew things about each other no other human being knew?

You are an idiot, Sammy, she told herself, feeling near tears and wondering if she should have Janet sedate her, too. Instead, she dried herself and got dressed and went to see General Hammond about contacting her father. He was a father and a grandfather himself; she knew he'd do it without questioning her.

And then she returned to the infirmary, slipping in past the night nurse to find Daniel, drowsy but awake. "Hey," she whispered, and slid her hand into his.

"Oh, Sam," he said, and smiled sleepily at her. "Janet says he'll be okay. He won't be able to lie on his back for a while, but they didn't hurt any muscles. Just skin." He wrinkled his nose, and she thought how adorable he was. "But she doesn't know about the cord thingy, what it might have done to him. She says we'll just have to wait."

"I'll wait with you," Sam told him, and pulled a chair up next to his bed, never releasing his hand. "You want anything? Some water or ice?"

"Ice, please. I feel like I'll never get enough liquid in me again."

"I know what you mean," she said, and spooned some crushed ice into his mouth. "May I?"

"Help yourself," he said indistinctly, and she did. The ice was ambrosial, slowly melting into her dried out tongue and throat. She leaned back in the uncomfortable chair and decided to spend the night here, feeding herself and Daniel ice and waiting for the colonel to wake up. "Don't you hate having to leave?" he asked after a few minutes.

"Leave what?" She sat up straighter. "That planet? No." She studied his tired face. "Do you?"

"Yes. Well, no, but. Yes, I do."

She looked blankly at him.

"I'm not sorry to have gotten away, and to have gotten Jack away." He paused, and Sam saw his face darken with pain at the memory of what had happened to Jack. "But we never learned anything at all. We don't even know what they called themselves. Nothing."

Sam let the silence stretch out, growing thinner in the dim light of the infirmary. At last she said, "It's different for you, I think. I don't see." She stopped abruptly and bit her lip.

"You don't see them as people," he said, and she nodded, a little ashamed. "Just missions to be completed."

"Daniel, I'm a solder."

He smiled at her sadly. "Sam, you're a person. A beautiful woman. A scholar. A daughter and a sister and a friend. And those people had sisters, maybe were sisters."

They stared at each other and then she watched him give up. His face relaxed and he lay back down, sighing heavily.

After a while, she said, "Tell me a story, Daniel. A love story."

He rolled onto his side and looked at her carefully. "A story?"

"Yes, please. Something wonderful. Something with a happy ending."

He smiled sweetly at her. "Sha'uri used to tell me stories. At night, in bed." He blushed a little at that. "I'll tell you one of hers, if you like."

"I'd like that very much." She put another spoonful of ice in his mouth and then in hers.

After a minute, he said, "Once upon a time, there was a beautiful young man who had no family. He was a hard worker, and had many friends, but he owned only his work robe and a night shift. He had to sleep on the sand because he had no family to weave him blankets, and he had to earn his meals because he had no family to make him cooking pots.

"One day he met a beautiful girl, with eyes as black as the night sky, and skin the color of the sand of Abydos. Her smile was like sunrise, and her laugh like sunset. And the young man knew he was in love."

Sam closed her eyes and let Daniel's words wash over her, as comforting as her shower, as the ice slipping down her throat. She held on to his hand gratefully, and listened to the colonel's breathing in the bed behind her, and to Daniel telling her Sha'uri's story.

And the young man knew he was in love, she thought, and smiled. And now I do, too. She opened her eyes and saw Daniel smiling at her. "I thought you were asleep."

"No. Just listening. What happened next?"

"Well, Sha'uri said that the young woman's father saw he was a hard-working decent man, but that he had no robes, nor blankets, nor pots. And so he told him: If you would marry my daughter, you must care for her as I do. So you must go out into the wide, wide world and bring her back these three things: a robe as beautiful as her smile; a blanket as warm as the sunrise; and a cooking pot as certain as the sunset.

"So the young man agreed, and he went off into the wide, wide world to search for these things for his loved one."

His loved one, she thought, and remembered Sha'uri. How beautiful she was, and how shy she'd been around them yet how boldly she'd kissed Daniel. No wonder you love that story, Daniel. It's you with a happy ending. We go out into the wide, wide world, and all we want is to come home.

He would talk all night, she told herself, and she would listen all night, and the colonel would wake in the morning, and her dad would come, and we'll search for these things for our loved ones. She fell asleep listening to Daniel's voice, comforted by his presence and his words.

Her neck and back and left hand were killing her when she woke, twisted in the infirmary's chair. A nurse, Stratham, from her nametag, was bending over Daniel but looking at Sam. "Good morning," Stratham whispered, and Sam sighed heavily.

"Good morning. How are they?"

"Doctor Jackson is fine, just sleeping. And I think Colonel O'Neill is better, too. I'm just going to take his blood pressure. Why don't you wash your face and have some coffee? When you come back, I'll know more."

Sam smiled at her gratefully. "May I bring Daniel some coffee, too?"

Stratham looked down at her patient. "A short cup of decaf wouldn't hurt, I suppose."

Sam knew better, but she figured not even a nurse could tell caffeinated from decaffeinated coffee just by looking, so she stood and stretched, and then made her way to the nearest ladies' room. She stopped by the colonel's bed and stared at him. His back was white with bandages, but no blood had seeped through them. Lines of glucose and blood led into him, and a line into a bag collected urine; he would hate that. But his face was relaxed and peaceful. Resisting the urge to touch his hand, she left, wondering where Teal'c was.

She found him outside the infirmary, standing at attention. He looked tired but had found time to shower and change. "How are you?" she asked, looking up into his kind face.

"How are O'Neill and Daniel Jackson?" he answered.

"Come to my office and I'll tell you," she suggested, and wondered if he'd eaten. Maybe take him to the commissary first? He hesitated, and then turned to walk with her. "They're both sleeping. The nurse said she'd have more information when I come back. You come with me."

He nodded but didn't speak. As they walked, she thought about what had happened. "Teal'c," she said hesitantly. "Yesterday. Did we do what was right? Were we under the influence of something?"

He didn't speak until they'd reached her lab and she started making coffee. After all these years, she was used to his silences, though, and didn't press him. At last he said, "I have had the same thoughts, Major Carter. At the time, it seemed --" He stopped suddenly, very unlike Teal'c, she thought. After a few seconds, he said, "I will speak of this to General Hammond. He is a great warrior, like my mentor Master Bra'tac. He will tell me the truth."

Sam nodded. She would ask her dad. He, too, would tell her the truth. Or if he wouldn't, Selmac would.

"And, uh." She stared at the steam rising from the coffee maker. "Did you know. Um. Were you surprised when." Shit, this was hard. "Did you know about the colonel and Daniel?" He stood next to her at the coffee maker and she forced herself to meet his eyes. "Did you know they loved each other?" she whispered.

"I did. I have spoken to O'Neill about this before."

She was boggled by the notion of Teal'c advising O'Neill on his love life. "Uh, what did you tell him?"

"That Daniel Jackson loved him, and that he needed to take greater care with Daniel's heart."

Dear Teal'c, she thought somewhat hysterically. "Can I ask what the colonel said?"

"You may. He asked me not to speak of this to anyone, but assured me that he cared very deeply for Daniel Jackson. He is an honorable man, Major Carter."

The coffee was ready, and so was Sam, for a deep cup of very hot, very black, very caffeinated Italian roast. "I didn't know," she murmured into the cup.

"O'Neill requested that I not speak of this to anyone, and I have obeyed his wishes. However," and she felt Teal'c's disapproving glance on her, "I find it difficult and troublesome to believe that you had not noticed their affection for each other."

She glanced over her shoulder at the door. "We shouldn't discuss this on base," she said at last. "And now that I think about it, yeah, I did notice. I just didn't let myself put two and two together."

"They are one and one," he corrected her, and she was pretty sure he was teasing her.

"Yeah. They sure are," she agreed, and sipped her coffee. "Come on, Teal'c. I'll bet you haven't eaten in ages. Let's get some breakfast, and bring Daniel some coffee. The nurse said decaf was okay, but we both know he'll need something stronger. A cup of this would help."

"I will endeavor to distract her while you furnish him this drug."

She knew he was teasing now and smiled as she turned to leave for the commissary.

"Did you spend much time on Abydos?" she asked him as they got into the elevator. "Enough to learn any folk tales?"

"I did. I would listen to the people around their campfires."

"Did you ever hear about the man who wanted to marry, but he didn't have any possessions? So the woman's father sent him out into the wide, wide world?"

"I have heard that story many times. Often it was told at weddings. The father instructed the young man to return when he had three things: a robe, a blanket, and a cooking pot."

"Yeah. That's the story. Daniel told me it last night."

"Indeed." The elevator doors opened and they stepped into a corridor filling with people; she realized it was change of shift. Many smiled at her and Teal'c, and a few said, "Welcome home," which made her smile back at them. She started to feel more like herself, as if the presence of these people and their acknowledgment of her were shaping her back into the person she'd been before leaving for P3X-927. The new cook, Sergeant Jimmy Auburn, had even made his specialty, creamy polenta, for breakfast, so she and Teal'c both had a big bowl. Sergeant Jimmy himself stopped by, wrapped in an immaculate white apron with a toque perched on his flat-topped hair, to reassure himself that it was as good as he'd hoped.

"Delicious," she swore, and scooped up another spoonful.

He patted her shoulder. "You eat up, there, Major. You're too skinny to be gallivanting through the universe. Mister Teal'c here'll show you."

"I look forward to the days you serve this grain," Teal'c acknowledged, and Sergeant Jimmy beamed.

"That's my man. Good to see you both," he said, and wandered to another table. Sam's eyes followed his cheerful path.

"Now there's a man who loves his work," she said.

"As do we, Major Carter," Teal'c said, and for a moment she thought he was chastising her, but a look into his face revealed only pleasure in her company.

"Yeah, we do." She ate her polenta and sipped her coffee, wondering if she could persuade Sergeant Jimmy to use her and Daniel's favorite brand in the commissary or if there was a contract or regulation somewhere that stipulated crappy coffee in military installations.

"You were asking about the Abydonian story," Teal'c reminded her.

"Oh, yeah." She put her spoon down. "Why would Daniel tell me that story, Teal'c? What does it mean?"

He set down his spoon and studied her face. "What does it mean to you?" he finally asked.

"Teeeal'c," she whined, knowing she sounded exactly like Colonel O'Neill. "Don't pull a MacKenzie on me. I wouldn't have asked you if I already knew the answer."

"The story means what it means to you, Major Carter. But I can tell you what it means to me."

"Please do," she said with some asperity, and started spooning jam onto her toast.

"The three things the father requests are symbols of a home on Abydos. They are a resilient people and do not require the opulence or wealth of the Goa'uld to make themselves comfortable. Yet a home is the most important concept in their culture. It signifies family, safety, nourishment, and affection. Even though the young man was strong and hard-working, he could not be fully integrated into Abydonian society until he had procured a home."

"Everything that Daniel lost, when we went back through the stargate."

Teal'c didn't drop his eyes, but she thought he flushed slightly. "No, Major Carter. When Apophis and his First Prime went through the stargate."

"Teal'c, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I just meant -- I just meant he's lost so much."

There was another pause, and then Teal'c said, "As have we all."

She stared up into his face. A face that might look impassive to people who didn't know him as well as she did, but she recognized the passion in him and his profound desire to make amends for all the evil he had done as First Prime to a Goa'uld. At last she said, "You are an honorable man, Teal'c," intentionally echoing his earlier words to her about Colonel O'Neill.

"Perhaps. Only when I am dead can that assessment be accurately made."

She wasn't hungry any more, not even for Sergeant Jimmy's excellent creamy polenta. "Let's go back to my office and get coffee for Daniel, then go see him and the colonel," she said, and he rose instantly, a hand on her elbow.

Walking through the crowded hallways, she thought about what Teal'c had said. Only when we are dead can an accurate assessment be made. That reminded her of Sha'uri's funeral, and the ritual of weighing the feather and her soul that Daniel had performed. How beautiful he'd been in those robes, unlike the ugly burqa they'd had to wear on P3X-927.

And she thought of Daniel with Colonel O'Neill. Of them as lovers, she had to assume; both were passionate men and she couldn't see them entering into some kind of platonic relationship that included kissing. No. The colonel touched Daniel in ways he touched no one else. He wasn't a particularly touchy-feely guy, but he'd always hugged Daniel, took liberties with him he took with no one else. She'd been an idiot to have missed the significance. She wondered what other secrets they shared.

"Sam!" her father's voice reached her and she turned.

"Dad! Oh my god," and she rushed back down the corridor to be swept up in his embrace. "Oh, Dad," she sighed, and felt near tears with gratitude. He held onto her tightly, stroking her back, as if he realized how much comfort she needed.

"How are you, sweetheart?" he finally asked her when she could let him go.

"I'm fine. Really, I'm okay."

"Teal'c."

"General Carter. It is good to see you. I am glad you are here."

"I had to come. I needed to be with my little girl for a while."

Normally Sam would have blushed furiously if he said that on base, but today the words were balm to her. "Thank you, Dad. We're just going to my office; can you come?"

"I'm here just for you. A little vacation."

"Good. We're getting coffee for Daniel." They were in the elevator now, and Teal'c pressed the button for her office floor.

"Can he drink coffee? How is he? And how's Jack?"

"We don't know yet. They sent me away for a while but said they'd have news when I got back. You come with us."

Teal'c carried Daniel's cup of coffee as if he were one of the Three Kings carrying a great treasure, which, Sam thought, it certainly was to Daniel. He was up, standing by Colonel O'Neill's bed, and twisted around a bit to look at them. "I knew I smelled coffee. Oh, god, thank you, Teal'c."

"You must thank Major Carter. She made this for you."

"Thank you, Sam. Hi, General Carter."

"Hello, son. You look much better than I was led to believe."

"Oh, I'm fine."

"And Colonel O'Neill?"

He turned back to the unconscious man. "They tell me he's okay. That he's just sleeping."

Sam stepped next to Daniel, her father leaning next to her and Teal'c peering over Daniel's shoulder at O'Neill. He did look asleep. Daniel gently tugged at the sheet, covering O'Neill's shoulder. "How badly injured is he?" Sam asked quietly.

Daniel shrugged. "They say his back isn't too bad. No sign of infection. But until he wakes up . . ." He sighed.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"Sam. I'm fine. You were there. You were hurt more than I was."

"What!"

"Dad. I'm fine." She glared at Daniel. "Thanks."

He looked abashed. "Sorry. But you did get hit with one of those cords."

"Will someone tell me what's going on?"

The colonel stirred, and sighed heavily. Daniel bent over him, hands firmly gripping the railing. "Hey, hey," he whispered, and Sam felt her father's arm go around her waist. She leaned against his shoulder, happy to feel his warm presence near her. "You awake in there?"

"Daniel?"

"Yeah, and Sam's here, and Teal'c, and even General Carter."

"Jacob?"

He stepped forward. "Jack. You've looked better."

O'Neill opened his eyes. "Thanks. You look good, too."

"I will get the nurse," Teal'c announced, no doubt to short circuit the pissing contest.

"Sir, how do you feel?"

He tried to roll onto his back, but Daniel caught him. "Ow." He raised a hand to his eyes, a gesture Sam had seen him make before. "Better. Could be better. Been better. But better than I was."

"Bet-ter?" she teased.

"Jacob, take your daughter away before I have to write her up for insubordination."

"You get well, Jack," her dad told him affectionately. "Daniel. It was good to see you. I'll come back later, after I've had a little talk with Samantha."

Her last glimpse of the colonel and Daniel, when she turned back at the door to glance at them, was of Daniel bending over him again, speaking softly to him. O'Neill smiled up at him, then carefully reached up and touched the back of his neck. She turned away, a little jealous, a little pleased.

Her father squeezed her waist. "Tell me the truth, honey. How are you?"

"Honest, I'm fine. I did get hit with one of those cords they beat Colonel O'Neill with, but only once." She shook her head. "Dad, I honestly don't know how he lived through it."

"Jack O'Neill is one tough son of a bitch."

"Yeah. Yeah, he is," she murmured, but thought of Jack with Daniel. Not so very tough after all.

Her dad kissed her. "I'm glad you're home, Sam."

She hugged him. "Me, too. It's good to be with family." He looked a little surprised at that, but only smiled at her. "Dad. I need your advice."

He smiled more broadly, and hugged her closer. "I can't think of more flattering words to hear from my genius daughter. Must be my lucky day." He glanced at her when they reached the elevator. "If I can do anything for you, you know I will."

"Yeah," she said, and smiled to herself. A robe, a blanket, and a cooking pot were the treasures that made a home on Abydos; here on earth, she had her father, her team, and the stargate. Maybe she had acted dishonorably on P3X-927. If so, her father would tell her, and she'd learn from her mistakes. And somehow, over time, she'd make it up to Colonel O'Neill and Daniel for doing so. But she wouldn't let it take away what she had here.


End file.
